


It Was Only a Kiss

by eafay70



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunken Kissing, Getting Together, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 16:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17984777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/pseuds/eafay70
Summary: Dylan didn't really mean to kiss Mitch while drunk during their draft week, but he did. Six months later, it's World Juniors time - which to Mitch apparently means revisiting that drunken kiss.





	It Was Only a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reserve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reserve/gifts).



> Hi! :) I hope you like this!
> 
> Title is from "Mr. Brightside" by the Killers.
> 
> Thanks to the mods for all you've done in organizing/running this exchange!!
> 
> Content notes (non-spoilery because this all happens at the beginning of the fic):  
> -Dylan (18 years old) and Mitch (also 18 years old) get drunk during their draft week in Florida, where the legal drinking age is 21. (How they get the alcohol isn't specified.)  
> -While both of them are drunk, Dylan impulsively kisses Mitch. He stops the kiss very quickly, in part because he can't tell if Mitch is into it. (A fuller explanation of why Dylan stopped the kiss occurs later in the fic.)
> 
> Please let me know if the above needs rewording to better reflect the content of the fic.

_late June 2015, a hotel in Florida_

Going into draft week, Dylan had been told to expect the following: lots of media attention, near-constant activities, and a general sense of disbelief that this was all actually happening to you. So far, all of that was proving true. The one thing that Dylan hadn’t been told to expect was the late-night drinking; it didn’t surprise him that the guys wanted to do so, but it did surprise him a little that they were able to pull it off considering what country they were in. Dylan decided it was smartest to keep his questions to himself and just say “thanks” upon being handed his beer.

As was so often the case, Dylan spotted Mitch in the crowd without really looking for him. Mitch seemed as happy as ever, vaguely dancing to the music faintly playing from someone’s phone while taking large sips of beer. From what Dylan could tell, Mitch was already tipsy and looking to get at least a little drunker; Dylan knew it was kind of weird that he could recognize all that so easily, but he refused to acknowledge the feelings connected to that.

“Stromer!” Mitch spotted him, waved, and wove his way toward him without spilling his half-full beer. “Cheers, bro!”

“Cheers, dude!” They clinked and drank.

“I’m such a lightweight.” Mitch giggled and rested his head on Dylan’s shoulder. “But so are you!”

“I know, buddy, I know.” Normally Dylan might have attempted an actual chirp, but he tended to do things differently with Mitch, so instead he just smiled as Mitch swayed at his side. “You happy?”

“Of course!” Mitch moved his head off Dylan’s shoulder and moved so they were standing face to face. “Why? Are you not happy??”

“Of course I’m happy. I’m with you.” Dylan felt his face redden; not wanting Mitch to notice, he leaned forward and kissed Mitch.

Mitch made a very strange sound. Dylan pulled back quickly and frowned at the confused look on Mitch's face. “I’m sorry, Marns,” Dylan whispered as he walked away, dumping his beer in a trash can before leaving the room and returning to his own, where he chugged a bottle of water and forced himself not to cry over having kissed his best friend and top-secret crush when they were both too drunk for it to be right.

\------

_late December 2015, a hotel in Helsinki_

Dylan tried to keep his face neutral during dinner. He didn’t want anyone noticing that he was avoiding Mitch - and thereby breaking his heart over and over again.

After that night at the draft, Dylan had been unsurprised when Mitch didn’t seem to remember the kiss and treated him like his best friend, the same as always. It had stung a little, but there hadn’t been much time to think about it during the draft. However, once all that had ended, the guilty feelings connected to that night had bubbled up, leaving Dylan unable to think about Mitch without the risk of crying. Playing on different teams meant Dylan had had time to get his feelings under control before they would have to play together here at World Juniors. Now, Dylan could think about Mitch and even talk about Mitch with only a small lump in his throat. More importantly, he could play with Mitch without any trouble; after all, hockey was hockey and therefore required full concentration.

Unfortunately, when Mitch had tried to approach Dylan on the first day here, Dylan had instantly felt the guilt consume him and turned away. And the concerned, but otherwise perfectly normal, smile Mitch had sent his way a few times since merely confirmed what Dylan had suspected even before that night at the draft: Mitch wasn’t in love with Dylan. So Dylan was keeping his feelings of love as hidden as possible, which was the usual for him, while avoiding Mitch, which wasn’t the unusual for him but had gone unnoticed so far.

“Dylan.”

So much for going unnoticed. Dylan turned in his seat to see Mitch standing behind him. “Hi, Marns.”

“My roommate is playing video games with the goalies tonight. Come over in about fifteen minutes, please?” Mitch looked very nervous, which Dylan didn’t think he'd ever seen before and immediately decided he didn’t like.

“Sure. You’re right across from the ice machine, right?”

Mitch nodded, then scurried away. Dylan took a deep breath and finished eating, trying to keep his nerves down.

At the appointed time, Dylan knocked on the door. Mitch opened it and smiled. “Thanks for agreeing to this, Stromer.”

“Of course.” Dylan walked inside, not sure where to sit.

Mitch closed the door and walked across the room to the beds, taking a seat on the messier of the two and patting the spot next to him. “Sit, please?”

Dylan did so, hoping his smile looked normal enough.

“So I didn’t want to say anything at the draft because it was the draft and things were crazy enough without bringing up anything else, but then you didn’t say anything so I wasn’t sure if you remembered, but now you’re avoiding me so I think you do remember -” He cut himself off with a deep breath, then resumed speaking. “You kissed me when we were both drunk, and then you left.”

Dylan nodded silently, not trusting his voice given the lump forming in his throat.

“Why?” Mitch asked. “Why did you kiss me, and why did you leave, and why didn’t you say anything, and why are you avoiding me?”

Dylan screwed his eyes shut for a moment, but it didn’t stop the tears from falling once he opened them again. “I kissed you because I didn’t want you to notice me blushing from being in love with you.”

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Mitch pointed out softly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dylan sighed. “I was drunk and not really thinking. Anyway, I left because I couldn’t tell if you were into it - you looked really confused, plus you were drunk. And...well, I wanted to know if you liked me, and I didn’t trust myself to figure that out while drunk.”

“Oh, Dyls…” Mitch handed him a tissue.

Dylan wiped his eyes and cheeks before continuing. “I didn’t say anything because it seemed like you didn’t remember it the morning after. And after the draft, you were completely normal, so I figured you still didn’t remember at best and weren’t into me at worst. I’ve been avoiding you because I’ve been assuming the worst.”

“Dylan…” Mitch rested one of his hands on Dylan’s. He still looked nervous. “I love you, too. We’ve both been absolute idiots in not talking to each other.”

“Yeah,” Dylan whispered.

“May I do the honors this time?” Mitch asked. Dylan nodded, Mitch leaned forward, and this time neither pushed away for quite some time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please let me know if I should change the tags and/or content warning; this is my first time writing something like this, so I'm not entirely certain of the protocol, for want of a better word.


End file.
